


The Twelve Nights Before Christmas, plus One Morning After

by Alexis_Tenshi



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, Christmas, Dream Sex, Fluff, Future Fic, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Leonard Snart Lives, Light Angst, M/M, Magic, Nipple Play, Post-Oculus Leonard Snart, Rimming, Smut, Soul Bond, Spanking, Succubi & Incubi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 21:16:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexis_Tenshi/pseuds/Alexis_Tenshi
Summary: Dreaming of Leonard Snart riding a polar bear on a field of fresh snow was a pleasant enough, if rather odd, experience. Dreaming of Len in increasingly...pleasurable...ways the following nights was even better. But they were just dreams. Not even the magic of Christmas could bring Len back to Barry for real…or could it?





	The Twelve Nights Before Christmas, plus One Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> Slightly dubious consent since Barry thinks he’s dreaming most of the time during the sex.

Only twelve more days until Christmas, Barry thought as he walked across the parking lot toward his car. No, wait, it was eleven now, he remembered. Twelve more _nights_ , counting that night, he amended. It was just after 11pm on December 13th, Barry confirmed by checking his phone.

Barry had found himself losing track of what day it was lately. He’d worried it was a sign of old age, but a brain scan discounted that theory. Barry’s brain was as healthy as anyone in their late twenties.

He was just distracted, focused on things other than remembering the date or time. He worked all hours at the lab, immersing himself in one project or another. Many nights he didn’t leave until long after midnight, so it was actually early for him to be heading out.

It was a choice, even if it was mostly subconscious. Because of course, Barry wasn’t _in_ his late twenties. He was closer to sixty, in fact. And Barry hated being reminded of that.

When Barry had become the Flash, his aging process had slowed down as his metabolism and healing sped up. They hadn’t noticed at first. It took them many years to see the signs. Even longer to be able to take an educated guess as to just _how_ slow Barry was aging. But in the end they estimated he aged approximately one year to the average person’s ten.

So while Barry was nearly sixty years old, he didn’t even look thirty yet. His body and mind were still performing at their peak, and would for many, many decades yet.

That might not seem like a burden, at first. For a long time, it wasn’t. Barry had always had a bit of a baby face. For a long time, no one noticed he never seemed to get older. But eventually they started to. Eventually, people started asking questions that Barry wasn’t comfortable trying to answer.

So Barry started using an image inducer to make himself look older. That worked, most of the time. Until local technology started to catch up with the tech Team Flash had borrowed from other Earths. Image inducers weren’t quite available yet, but high tech scanners could tell Barry was using _something_ that he shouldn’t be. Not everywhere scanned for unknown tech when anyone entered a building, but the police station definitely did. So Barry had taken early retirement from his job at the CCPD.

Crime had been way down, already, also thanks to advances in technology. Barry rarely got a case that challenged his CSI skills anymore. So retiring hadn’t been as dismal a prospect as it might have been when he was younger.

Barry was also rarely needed as the Flash. The police were all equipped with anti-meta tech, and there were other, younger, more eager superheroes around. Barry occasionally still got the call into action, when something big was going down. He still occasionally ran around on patrol when he was bored. But for the most part the original Flash was retired, too. Barry had been the Flash for over twenty years, so that retirement didn’t really sadden him either.

Barry had decided to refocus on his love of science, and had devoted himself to revitalizing Star Labs as a hub of innovation. It’d taken time, but it was now a success. Barry employed over a hundred people working on various projects that he all approved and oversaw. He also had his own lab and his own projects.

Barry had toyed with the idea of trying to restore his ageing to a normal pace. But it was a risky prospect, just as likely to kill him as fix him. He certainly didn’t want to end his own life. His life might be a lot less exciting than it used to be, but he still wanted to live it. So his friends and family had talked him out of it fairly easily. He never wanted to hurt them by hurting himself, either.

Watching them age, while he stayed young, was the crux of Barry’s own pain. It was difficult, but he could bare it. He wouldn’t bring pain on them just to save himself from ending up alone.

Besides, he’d been lucky so far in that regard. So far he hadn’t lost anyone to old age. Joe, the most elderly of his family, was still alive. Joe had gotten to retire from the force after serving several long successful years as police commissioner at the end of his career.

His health wasn’t the best anymore, but he was hanging in there. So was Cecille. Their daughter, Jenna, was engaged and had scheduled the wedding for the coming spring. Both of her parents were determined to make it there.

The extended West family had chosen to take a romantic Christmas cruise for that holiday season, in fact. Joe and Cecille, Jenna and her fiancé; Iris and Eddie, their children and their dates; Wally and Linda, their children and their dates; they were all going. Barry could hardly believe that the youngest of the West family, Wally and Linda’s twins, were eighteen and on winter break from their first college semesters already. The cruise ship was going to travel the Alaskan waters; the trip promised to be magical and was designed for couples looking for a romantic getaway.

Barry had been invited, of course. But he’d declined. He’d been single for a long time. He loved his family and they remained close, but he knew he would have felt out of place on that cruise. Iris had tried to push him toward finding a date, at least to take on the cruise and see if it led anywhere, but Barry hadn’t felt like forcing it.

It’d gotten harder to date as Barry had gotten older and his slowed ageing became more obvious. He refused to lie to anyone he was serious about. He’d learned that lesson several times over when he was younger. Casual was one thing, but most people weren’t comfortable in a long term relationship were they couldn’t age together. Even dating other superheroes hadn’t worked out for Barry. He’d been with a Green Lantern for awhile, but it’d ended badly. That was over five years ago now.

With the West family away, Barry didn’t have many plans for the holiday season. So it wasn’t surprising he’d lost track of the exact date. He was throwing a party on Christmas Eve for everyone that worked at Star Labs and their guests, including Caitlin and Cisco and their families. But Barry would likely spend Christmas day itself alone.

Plenty of people had invited him to parties, dinners, and the like. He wasn’t short of friends. Not yet, anyway. But none of the events felt quite right to Barry. So he was planning on just having a quiet day to himself. Maybe he would take a run around the planet or two, if he felt like it. He hadn’t done that in a long time.

Barry reached his car in the Star Labs parking lot and unlocked it via the fingerprint recognition on the door handle. He could just run home, of course. But with current technology, someone was always watching. The government knew his identity, even though it wasn’t public knowledge. They left him alone, like he wanted, these days. But every time Barry used his speed, there was a chance some corporation or wannabe villain would figure out who he was.

Star Labs was finally a success in its own right. He didn’t want it to become a Flash attraction for nostalgic fans, or anyone’s target. So he was careful to not use his speed unless he was inside the lab where it was shielded from prying eyes, or when he was far enough away from the lab entirely to keep his identity safe. So Barry had gotten accustomed to driving himself home.

Barry had considered just making himself a makeshift room at Star Labs where he could crash, but his friends had nixed the idea. If he did that, he would hardly ever go home, they’d rightly argued. He needed to maintain something of a normal life outside the lab, for his own mental health, they’d said. They were right, of course. Barry was lucky to have them. He worried sometimes what he’d become once they were gone. But he tried not to think about it often.

Barry had moved to a large house just outside the city a few years ago, for the privacy. He’d loved his loft apartment, but living in a building with others had caused a few close calls when he’d forgotten to use his image inducer. On the positive side, the quick excuse he’d thought of had begun to lay the groundwork he’d need later; that Barry had a distance relative that looked just like he had thirty years ago.

Eventually the image inducer wouldn’t be enough. Someday, Barry would have to pretend to be his own younger relative _all_ the time. He would have to fake IDs and history. He would have to leave Star Labs to himself, in an inheritance, if he wanted to keep running it. Or maybe he would relocate and start a new life somewhere, eventually. But he wanted to hold onto his life and family in Central City for as long as he could. Getting suspiciously old to still be around was decades off yet, Barry told himself.

Barry took a deep inhale of the chilly air as he stepped out of his car at his house. With the holidays it was easy to feel melancholy. It was easy to get stuck in worries of what the future might hold for him, and what he was lacking in the present. But he had a lot of good memories. He had a lot to be thankful for. He tried to remember to focus on that, but it was still difficult sometimes.

Barry shook his head, trying to dispel the mood, as snow lightly started falling. His house was decorated for the holidays. Blue and white lights outlined the entire outside of the house. They came on automatically at dusk, so anyone that drove by could enjoy them even when Barry got home late. It was a lovely sight, even if it didn’t really help Barry’s mood.

He went inside and turned off and then rearmed his security system. Now shielded from the outside world, Barry used his speed freely. He made himself a huge meal befitting his metabolism, then got comfortable in bed and turned on the TV. He watched about half a random cheesy Christmas movie before he dozed off to sleep.

\-------------------------------------

‘Twas the twelfth night before Christmas, and Barry dreamed of a huge field covered in white. He spun around in a circle, but there was no sign of anything besides snow and silence. He was cold, shivered a little, and vibrated slightly to warm himself up. He considered running around to see where he was, but hesitated. Somehow it felt wrong to disturb all the recently fallen snow. It lay all around him, pristine and sparkling in the glow from the stars above, untouched even by any signs of animals.

Barry took a deep breath and exhaled, watching it fog the air in front of him. He felt his tension begin to leave him, unlike when he’d tried this earlier outside his own home. Here, it was so beautiful, so calm, and so seemingly serene, that Barry couldn’t help relaxing too. He just stood there, taking in the view, and enjoying the quiet.

Barry wasn’t sure how long he stood there. Eventually, he noticed movement in the distance and squinted to make it out. As sometimes happens in dreams, a few seconds later, much sooner than realistically possible, the figure was only a few feet away from Barry and coming closing.

Barry blinked, even in his dreaming state struck by the oddity of the sight. It was huge polar bear, much larger than real bears ever got. Its eyes seemed to sparkle with intelligence and its mouth formed something resembling a toothy smile, but Barry’s eyes quickly shifted toward the person on the bear’s back. The bear wore no saddle or reins, but sitting quite comfortably atop the bear’s back was Leonard Snart.

Barry blinked more and cocked his head in confusion, too surprised to speak. Leonard wore a hooded jacket, navy blue with white fur, as had often been his preferred style. But it wasn’t the parka worn by the Len that Barry had known best, nor the fluffier version with the ice knives on the sleeve that Leo from Earth 53 favored, nor the sleeveless version that the meta Leonard from Earth 82 had preferred.

This coat was tighter and shorter than the parka, as if it’d been tailored for this Snart specifically. The lines of fur were thinner, but ran not only around the hood, but along the line of the zipper, as well as the bottom of the coat and the sleeves. The coat also had embroidered designs running throughout it in silvers and whites. Barry made out snowflakes, symbols he couldn’t place at all, and what he thought might be small lightning bolts.

This Len wore black leather pants, and boots as well, but the most striking thing about him was that coat. At least until Barry saw his eyes.

This Leonard pulled back his hood to reveal his face. He wore no glasses or goggles. He looked exactly the same as the last time Barry had seen his Len, on that Christmas all those decades ago when he had stolen hot cocoa and given Barry a warning.

Snow seemed to swirl in his eyes, like a storm was building in the sky of blue in his eyes. But it must have just been a reflection of the snow falling in the field they were in, Barry reasoned. Those eyes also held the sharp intelligence common among versions of Snart. Barry stared at them, entranced for long moments before looking away. This Len smiled, and there was kindness and there was sadness in it.

Barry knew the Leonard he’d known was dead, had been dead for decades now, thanks to the Legends and the Oculus. Barry had met other Leonards, on other worlds. There was no reason to assume this Len was _his_ , or anything _like_ his. But in the way of dreams, none of that mattered. Barry instantly trusted this Len. Maybe even more than he’d ever trusted _any_ Len.

Barry didn’t know it was a dream at the time, of course. That was often the way of dreams. But the risks of reality still seemed far, far away. Barry couldn’t imagine any reason to not trust any version of Leonard Snart. Especially one with eyes that looked at Barry like that.

This Len leaned down slightly from atop the polar bear’s back, extending his hard out toward Barry with palm up. Len’s hand was as gorgeous as always. Barry found himself almost reaching for it automatically, even before Len spoke.

“Would you like to go for a ride with me, Barry?” Len asked.

Barry nodded, still speechless, and took Len’s offered hand. It was warm, despite the snow surrounding them. Len pulled him up, guiding Barry to sit in front of him on the bear. The bear grunted, but it somehow seemed a noise of approval rather than a protest at the additional passenger.

Len wrapped his arms around Barry’s waist as the bear began to move. Barry felt safe and secure, ready for an adventure, even though he had no idea where they were going.

Then he woke up.

\--------------------------------------

The dream had been odd, but that was how dreams usually were. In the light of day, Barry barely thought about it again. He went to work, he focused on his projects, he had lunch with Cisco and Caitlin, he got a few texts from Iris with photos of their cruise. Everything was normal.

Barry drove home in the late evening, made dinner, and headed toward his bedroom. Only when he got there did he notice anything odd.

It was noticeably colder in this bedroom than the rest of the house. Barry shivered and frowned. The heater was obviously working; the rest of the house was a comfortable temperature. He checked the windows were closed, the heating vent was open, and turned up the heat. He felt the heat blow out of the vent, warm and normal. He shook his head in confusion, considering sleeping somewhere else. He had several guest bedrooms and a large comfortable couch downstairs. But for some reason he just wanted to be in his own bed.

It was chilly, but not dangerously cold, he reasoned. He had flannel sheets and big blankets on his bed, and the heat was clearly coming into the room now. He would be fine, he told himself, and settled down to sleep.

\----------------------------------------

‘Twas the eleventh night before Christmas and Barry dreamed of Leonard’s hands.

Barry had always liked Len’s hands. Though _liked_ was probably the weakest way to express how Barry felt about them. _Preoccupied_ by…. _entranced_ by…desperately wanted to be _touched_ by…was a bit more accurate.

After Len’s death, Barry had wished he’d done more to act on the attraction he felt toward the man. More than try to convince Len there was good in him. More to pull Len toward Barry instead of toward the Legends. Maybe something as simple as having taken Len’s hand and just held on. Maybe Len would have jerked away. Maybe Len would have still gone with the Legends, still died.

But maybe not. Maybe if Barry had just reached out and held on tight, Len would have stayed with him.

Len had had such beautiful hands; Barry had always wanted to hold them. He’d never gotten the chance.

But in his dream, that cold winter night, he did. So he held on tight. And Len held back.

Their fingers intertwined. Their hands were similar sizes, but Len’s fingers seemed so much longer than Barry’s. Len’s pointer finger stroked Barry’s knuckle, neither letting go. That one little movement somehow meant so much.

Barry looked up at Len and saw snow in his eyes. But there was no field. No polar bear. Just Barry’s bed, and Len in it with Barry.

Len shifted, letting go of Barry’s hands for mere seconds, repositioning them more comfortably in the bed; Barry’s back pressed against Len’s chest. But still Barry’s heart pounded in fear of lose until he felt Len’s arms wrap tight around him from behind. Barry’s gripped Len’s hands again.

Barry hadn’t been held outside of his dreams in a long time. His friends hugged him. But it was always over faster than Barry liked. Barry wanted to be held all night long, kept warm all night long. Len kept him warm. Len never felt cold to Barry, no matter how fond Len was of the cold himself.

Barry slept better than he had in years.

Then he woke up.

\-------------------------------------

It’d been a nice dream. Barry remembered it fondly. But it was still a dream. It still mostly faded by the light of day. Barry still went through his day as he normally did.

He might have stroked his knuckles a few times with his own fingers while he was thinking about a calculation for his current experiment. He might have hugged himself a little while he waited for the test simulation to run. But that was all.

At home, nothing was different. Except his bedroom was cold again. It had been warm in the morning, hadn’t it? Barry found he couldn’t remember for sure. But he’d slept well, despite the cold. He was sure of that. So he decided to not worry about it. If it kept up he’d call someone about it, eventually, after the holiday season. It wasn’t important enough to inconvenience anyone with it now, he thought, as he settled into bed.

\-----------------------------------

‘Twas the tenth night before Christmas, and Barry dreamed of kissing Leonard.

It didn’t matter how they’d gotten into bed together at Barry’s, again. Details like that didn’t matter in dreams. It didn’t even cross Barry’s mind to wonder such a thing. Of course it didn’t matter.

All that mattered was how Len’s lips tasted; like cool night air. All that mattered was how Len’s tongue felt in Barry’s mouth; hot and sure and insistent. All that mattered was that Len let Barry bite down on his bottom lip, not enough to draw blood, but almost, and didn’t pull away.

When he _did_ pull away from Barry’s lips, Len took his own turn biting. He licked and sucked and nipped Barry’s neck until Barry was sure there would be red and purple bruises.

“ _Scarlet_ ,” Len purred in correction of the color, or maybe just at Barry.

Then Barry woke up.

\-------------------------------------------

His room was warm in the morning, Barry noted.

There were no bruises on his neck, scarlet colored or otherwise. Of course, even if there _had_ been they would have healed by the time he checked in the mirror, Barry thought.

But there _hadn’t_ been. It’d just been a _dream_. A series of dreams. Intense dreams. But that was _all_.

Barry took longer getting ready in the morning. But he owned Star Labs. No one complained if he was late these days. By lunchtime, everything felt normal again.

Until that night when his room was cold again.

\-------------------------------------------

‘Twas the ninth night before Christmas, and Barry dreamed of Len biting him more.

Len moved his mouth from Barry’s neck, down along his collar bone, leaving licks and bites every few breaths as he went. Len’s lips felt cool, but his mouth felt hot, and the contrast easily drove Barry wild.

Barry squirmed under Len, feeling himself begin to harden already. Barry had had a quick arousal and regain time since becoming the Flash. It hadn’t lessened with age. Barry had found it was just as likely to annoy and inconvenience his partners as it was to turn them on.

When Len looked up at Barry, with snow in his eyes and a smirk on his lips, Barry stopped worrying. Len grabbed Barry’s hips to keep him in place. But he was clearly enjoying Barry’s reaction. The smirk stayed firmly on Len’s face.

Until Len opened his mouth and licked directly across Barry’s left nipple. Barry gasped, shocked and turned on. Before he could even being to recover, Len was biting lightly down on that nipple.

Len bit, then he licked. He kissed, then he sucked. He took Barry’s nipple between his teeth and gently tugged. Barry was a gasping, squirming mess, as Len held him down and kept playing with Barry’s nipple.

Barry had always been sensitive to touch. Becoming the Flash had just made him even more so. His nipples were especially responsive to attention. And Len knew just what attention to give them.

When Len was done with the left, he moved to the right and repeated the process. Barry was rock hard by the time Len lifted his head, again smirking. Len locked eyes with Barry and Barry was drawn into the snowstorm there again.

“Sore, Scarlet?” Len asked, gesturing to Barry’s nipples with his chin.

Barry’s nipples were cherry red, swollen, hot, and throbbing. They’d heal soon, but for the moment they were very pleasantly sore. So Barry nodded, with a pout for good measure.

Len had lotion in his hands then. It didn’t matter where it’d come from. It was a white and red bottle; Christmas themed, Barry thought.

Peppermint scented lotion, Barry confirmed as he got a whiff of it as Len rubbed it on his hands. _Cooling_ lotion, Barry realized when Len began massaging it into Barry’s nipples and Barry felt a sharp sting as it absorbed. Barry was soon panting from the contrast of the cool lotion on his sore sensitive nipples. Len tugged and twisted those nipples, working the lotion in well.

Barry’s willpower lasted a few seconds more, then he grabbed Len’s hips to pull them closer together, while bucking his own hips up. Len continued to smirk and work Barry’s nipples with his clever fingers, and let Barry grind against him.

It was nearly enough, but not quite. So Barry reached between them, grabbed himself, and finished himself off.

Barry came with Len’s hands still on his nipples, Len’s eyes watching Barry as he moaned. The pleasure wracked Barry’s body, only made better by how intensely Len was watching him.

Then Barry woke up.

\---------------------------------------

Barry’s boxers and sleep pants bore the evidence that the orgasm had been real, at least.

But he had a busy day at work scheduled, so he pushed the rest aside.

Sex dreams were nothing new or unique, he told himself. Maybe the years without a partner, plus the loneliness of this holiday season, had finally built up enough that Barry’s brain was conjuring this. That was all.

He ignored that his room was warm in the morning again.

He didn’t even consider checking the drawer in his nightstand. Why would he?

If he had, buried in the far back, he would have found lotion he’d been gifted from his niece before she left for their cruise. He’d entirely forgotten about it.

It was cooling peppermint. And slightly used, now.

\-------------------------------------------

‘Twas the eighth night before Christmas, and Barry dreamed of Len’s hands again.

Len’s hands on Barry’s _cock_ , this time.

It was nothing like Barry’s own hands on his cock. _Nothing._

Maybe Len didn’t do much differently with his hands. He tugged and lightly squeezed the same way Barry did.

But it was _Len’s_ hands on Barry’s cock!

Len’s hands on Barry’s _cock_!

When just a few nights ago, Barry had lamented how they’d never even gotten to hold hands. Now Len was touching, tugging, that most intimate and private part of Barry, and driving him _wild_.

And watching him closely as he did so. Len liked to watch, Barry thought. He liked to note all of Barry’s reactions. Len noticed everything that Barry responded to; every gasp and groan and twitch.

And Len smirked in pleased satisfaction as Barry came into his hand, coating Len’s fingers in his come. Barry got his own additional satisfaction that his seed was marking Len’s hand that way, however temporary.

Then Barry woke up.

\----------------------------------------------

Putting a second pair of come soiled sleep pants into the laundry hamper on top of the first pair was a little difficult to ignore.

Barry’s bedroom being warm in the morning every day, and cold at night, was likewise becoming impossible to ignore.

But what was Barry supposed to think about it? What was Barry supposed to say the problem was?

His house was having an odd heating problem, and he was having oddly pleasurable dreams. Not exactly something he could admit to anyone.

Otherwise, everything was normal. Barry felt fine. Everything was fine.

\----------------------------------------------

‘Twas the seventh night before Christmas, and Barry dreamed of Len sucking his cock.

Len’s mouth was _amazing_ , Barry already knew that. But _those_ lips wrapped around his cock, _that_ tongue teasing his tip; _Leonard_ sucking him off…Barry came embarrassingly fast. Almost as soon as he’d realized what was happening, Barry was emptying himself down Len’s throat.

Barry hid his face behind his arms; certain Len would be annoyed with him. But Len gently pulled those arms down to look at him. Len’s eyes held such fondness, behind the snow storm swirling in them, it was amazing. His expression was also smug as hell. It sent Barry laughing and Len grinning properly.

The blowjob had been amazing, but Len showing he clearly cared about Barry was even _more_ amazing.

Then Barry woke up with a smile on his face.

\---------------------------------------------

The next day passed in a blur.

Barry was glad he’d hired responsible employees so it didn’t matter if he was a bit distracted at work. They’d pick up the slack for him.

\-------------------------------------------

‘Twas the sixth night before Christmas, and Barry dreamed of sucking Len’s cock.

Len had looked shocked when Barry asked, but of course he’d said yes. Who turned down a blow job?

Len’s cock was large, as Barry had always imagined it’d be. Why should it be anything less in a dream?

It felt good in Barry’s mouth, a nice solid weight against his tongue.

Len’s hands felt good in Barry’s hair, pulling just enough to show how much Len liked this.

So Barry licked, and sucked, and vibrated around the length in his mouth. He loved every twitch he drew from Len’s cock, every tightening of fingers in his hair, every gasp from Len’s mouth.

And of course Barry loved the feeling of Len’s hot wet come hitting his tongue. He swallowed it all and smirked up at Len in smug satisfaction when he was done. He made a show of licking his lips, making Len laugh. Barry was almost as proud of being able to draw that laugh out of Len, as he was to draw the come out of Len’s cock.

Then he woke up.

\---------------------------------------

Barry’s mouth tasted like come that morning. But he dismissed it.

He must have just slept with his mouth open and because of the dream he was imagining the taste. That had to be it.

Barry had Caitlin scan him, just in case. Just a check up, he told her. He felt fine. He didn’t mention the recurring dreams.

Everything physically was normal. No signs of any illness, curse, or other abnormality.

So Barry continued his routine as normal. What else was he supposed to do?

\-----------------------------------------------

‘Twas the fifth night before Christmas, and Barry dreamed of Len spanking him.

Barry had felt guilty wasting Caitlin’s time.

She was close to a breakthrough cure for ALS. She’d picked up her father’s research after Team Flash had retired. She’d already made leaps and bounds in her work. The disease was rarely fatal anymore, thanks to her. She was close to eradicating it entirely. She deserved, the _world_ deserved, she focus on that while at work.

But she was one of the few doctors Barry trusted, and the only doctor at Star Labs that knew about Barry’s powers. He really needed to pick another medical professional or two to share his secret with, that he could trust. Caitlin was one of the first people Barry had ever shared that part of his life with, and no other doctor could compete with that. But Barry needed to get past that and let Caitlin focus on her work. Especially when Barry was worried about something that was nothing.

So Barry felt guilty wasting Caitlin’s time.

So Barry asked Len to spank him.

Also because Barry just _wanted_ to be spanked, and this was a fine excuse, he admitted to himself.

Len was perfectly happy to agree, gesturing Barry to lie across his lap while Len sat on the edge of Barry’s bed. Len pulled down Barry’s sleep pants just enough to give himself access, then got right to it.

Len used those lovely hands on Barry’s presented ass, smacking his palm down against Barry’s cheeks again and again. Len used the prefect amount of strength behind each strike, stinging sharply but doing no real damage.

Barry shifted forward slightly with the impact of every spank, then wiggled back a tiny bit to ask for more. The friction that caused while lying draped across Len’s lap had Barry hard within moments. Before long his cock started to throb in time with the smacks against his ass.

When he was done, Len rubbed peppermint lotion on Barry’s sore cheeks.

“Hmmhh…another adorable part of you turned scarlet thanks to me,” Len purred while he rubbed the lotion in. “Maybe tomorrow night you’d like me to help the little hole between these naughty cheeks to turn just as bright red, and throb just as much?”

Barry gasped, his cock twitched, and he woke up.

\--------------------------------------------------

Barry added to his laundry pile in the morning.

He didn’t notice his sleep pants smelled like peppermint, as well as come.

He didn’t notice the lotion bottle in the back of his drawer was further emptied.

Barry went through his day, again telling himself everything was perfectly normal.

\--------------------------------------------------

‘Twas the fourth night before Christmas, and Barry dreamed of getting to find out how it felt to have Len’s tongue in his hole.

Len patted Barry’s ass, humming to see it completely healed from the night before. Len parted Barry’s cheeks, leaned down and actually kissed Barry’s little puckered hole. Then he licked it, back and forth across the opening for long maddening moments before starting to stick his tongue inside.

Len ate Barry out properly, enthusiastically, and with great care. No one had ever been so interested in pleasuring Barry this way before, and Barry loved it. His hole throbbed, just as Len had promised it would. And Barry had no doubt his rim was scarlet, even though he couldn’t see it himself.

Len pulled back and started rubbing a finger where his lips had so recently been. Spit, no matter how thoroughly applied, was no lube. So Len only stuck the very tip of his finger inside Barry, as if a promise for later.

Then Barry woke up.

\----------------------------------------------

Barry worked weekends often. He didn’t have a set schedule at the lab and went in at least for a few hours most days. But the next day he wisely took off.

He went for a run. It did wonders to clear his head.

He did some holiday baking and ended up with far more cookies than even he needed.

When he headed to bed that night, he was thrilled to find the room chilled.

\---------------------------------------------------

‘Twas the third night before Christmas, and Barry dreamed of Len fucking him.

Len’s cock felt amazing pounding into Barry’s ass. Every thrust seemed to hit perfectly where Barry wanted it. It was a dream; of course it should work perfectly.

Len’s lips felt amazing as he leaned down to kiss Barry mid-thrust. That Len wanted to kiss him, even as he fucked him, affected Barry nearly as much as the fucking itself.

Len’s hand felt amazing around Barry’s cock. Barry thought it always would, no matter how many times Barry felt it or what else was going on. The combination of Len’s cock in Barry’s hole, and Len’s hand on Barry’s cock was a perfect harmony.

Coming together felt the most amazing of all. Len’s come filling him up at the same time his own seed splashed against his stomach. Len’s come coating Barry’s hole while Barry’s come coated Len’s hand. His orgasm shot through his body in waves as Len’s come shot inside him.

He wished Len didn’t have to pull out. He wished his greedy ass could just keep that lovely large cock inside himself always.

Sadly, then he woke up.

\------------------------------------------------

Barry took off another day. He wouldn’t be missed. It was the holiday season. Most of his employees had requested off anyway, and of course Barry allowed them that.

He did a load of laundry that day. He tried to ignore how many sleep pants he’d gone through.

He did some last minute Christmas shopping. At nearly every store he had to resist buying something for Len. Dreams had no way to receive real presents, he kept reminding himself. It hurt every time.

He went to sleep early that night.

\-------------------------------------------------

‘Twas the second night before Christmas, and Barry dreamed of fucking Len.

Len had looked surprised at the request. Just like he’d looked surprised when Barry asked to suck him off before. Did Len’s sexual partners normally not care about pleasuring him that way? Did Len not like to bottom?

“It’s not that,” Len answered when Barry asked. “Switching is great. But most people expect me to want to be the boss all the time. People don’t expect me to like just lying back and taking it sometimes. That takes a lot of trust; to put my experience in the hands of someone else. I don’t trust many people that much.”

“But you trust _me_ that much?”

“Yes, Barry, I trust _you_ that much.”

Topping was great. Bottoming was great. Sex without penetration could be great. Barry didn’t know why some people limited themselves to one arrangement. He was glad Len agreed.

So Barry was sure to give Len the best fucking he possibly could. For a speedster, that was a pretty impressive fucking indeed.

Barry could thrust faster than any human. He could vibrate his cock. He could come again and again with practically no regain time and fill up Len’s hot little hole with load after load of come. Len _asked_ him to, he asked Barry to give Len _everything_ he had, and Barry was happy to oblige.

Barry pulled out, once Len’s hole was completely overflowing. He snuck a few fingers inside Len’s hole and scooped out some of his come. He used that like lube while he tugged Len’s cock.

It was all wonderful. The best sex Barry had ever had, even in dreams. But the best part was Len moaning Barry’s name when he came.

Then Barry woke up, exhausted and feeling like he could sleep for another eight hours, but happy.

\----------------------------------------------

It was Christmas Eve and Barry couldn’t miss the party he’d arranged for all the Star Lab employees.

It was a good time. There were decorations everywhere. There was great food, gifts, dancing, and games. People brought their kids and Barry had hired a Santa and elves for photos. Everything went well.

Barry hugged Cisco, and Caitlin, and his other close friends. He politely declined invitations to events the following day. He smiled and was genuinely happy.

He knew the dreams weren’t real. He knew they couldn’t last. But while they did, Barry was determined to enjoy them. So he was happy.

It was amazing sex. But it was sex with _Leonard_. A man Barry had always been attracted to and admired. A man Barry wished he’d gotten to know better before he died.

Barry knew this wasn’t real. But it still felt like a chance at something he’d missed. So he embraced it.

Barry went home after the party and went straight to bed. He noticed only absently how cold the room was.

\------------------------------------------------------

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and Barry dreamed of talking with Len.

Barry had decided it was high time for a conversation, as tempting as more sex was. He surprised Len again by admitting as much. But Len agreed. Len never protested what Barry wanted in these dreams, it seemed.

“What was up with that polar bear?” Barry asked, trying something light to begin.

“Peanut Butter? He’s a friend.”

“Peanut Butter?!? The bear’s name is _Peanut Butter_?!”

“His real name isn’t pronounceable by humans,” Len explained. “I started calling him PB for ‘Polar Bear’, then switched it to Peanut Butter when I was annoyed with him once. He actually found it really amusing and so it stuck.”

Barry laughed at the absurdity of it all. This was such a weird dream.

Barry wasn’t certain when exactly he’d started becoming aware that he was dreaming while it happened. But he just went with it.

“Where did you two meet?” Barry asked.

“In the Oculus, of course.”

When Len said that, the snow storm in his eyes seemed to intensify. Barry froze, startled at the serious tone and the answer. He hadn’t expected Len to remember his own death. This was a _happy_ dream, wasn’t it? Len was still _alive_ in this dream, wasn’t he?

“The…Oculus?”

“The Legends told you about it, I imagine. The thing that killed me,” Len explained. “It’s a complicated… _thing_ ….with a lot of complicated…. _people_ ….living inside it. Peanut Butter is one. I’m another, now.”

“But you _died_ …but you’re _living_ …inside the Oculus?” Barry asked, frowning.

Barry wondered why he was even trying to make sense of this. It was a dream. Of course it wasn’t going to make sense.

“ _Complicated_ is the key word here,” Len sighed. “It can’t be explained properly in a night.”

Barry nodded, ready to drop it, when what Len said sunk in.

“In _a night_? Why just a night? We can take a few nights to talk about it, right? We don’t have to have sex _every_ night!” Barry spoke with trepidation creeping into his voice.

“It’s almost Christmas, Barry.”

That was no answer, Barry thought. But it was all Len said. Len’s eyes looked sad and apologetic.

Anxiety suddenly gripped Barry, turning his stomach into knots. He couldn’t lose Len _again_ , he _couldn’t_! But this was just a dream, he reminded himself. He didn’t _have_ Len, not really. This was just a fantasy Barry’s own brain had dreamt up. He could keep dreaming it, right?

A growl suddenly echoed through the room. Barry jumped in surprise, while Len tensed. Barry didn’t know how he knew, but he was certain that sound was an impatient polar bear.

Len’s lips tightened, but he tried to smile for Barry. His eyes had turned nearly entirely white. Barry thought he saw tears forming in them, but Len looked away before Barry could be sure. Len started to stand up to get off Barry’s bed. Barry panicked.

“No, don’t go! Len! Len, stay with me, please!”

Len had walked a few steps away. He paused and turned back. He studied Barry for long tense moments before he spoke.

“For how long?”

“Forever,” Barry answered instantly.

“Are you sure?” Len asked, with caution in his tone.

“Completely,” Barry didn’t need to time to reconsider before answering. “I’m completely certain. Stay with me, Len, _please_. Stay with me _forever_!”

Barry held out his hands to Len, as Len had done on that first night to Barry.

Barry remained in his bed, but the rest of the room faded away. Behind Len there now stretched a long, snow covered field. Some distance away in the field stood a huge polar bear. Peanut Butter, Barry reminded himself. Calling the bear by that name made it much less intimidating.

The bear stood on its hind legs, studying them both from afar. He made no threatening movements, but Barry still frowned at him.

“You can’t have him back, Peanut Butter!” Barry shouted. “He’s _mine!_ ”

Len blinked at Barry, looking shocked at the outburst. Barry was a bit shocked too. But he meant what he’d said.

“I…I mean, if you want to be, Len,” Barry amended. “I want you to stay with me, forever, please!”

Barry offered his hands to Len again. That he’d been sure this was a dream moments ago had left Barry’s mind. It seemed so _real_ now. It seemed so _vital_ to convince Len to stay.

Len turned back toward the polar bear.

“The choice is yours, Sir Leonard,” The polar bear spoke. “The Scarlet Speedster has already made his.”

The bear gestured toward Barry with one large paw as he spoke. Barry ignored that the bear could speak. That wasn’t important at the moment.

“It is his _final_ choice? His _absolut_ e choice?” Len asked the bear.

“It is,” The bear responded. “He is resolute and certain. He has decided of his own free mind. He will not waver. All that remains is your own choice, Sir Leonard.”

Len nodded, as Barry tried to not be offended that the bear’s opinion of Barry’s choice seemed to matter so much.

Len turned back to Barry, walked the few steps toward him, and took hold of his hands. Everything went white and Barry lost his breath, as if trapped in a sudden blizzard.

Then Barry woke up.

\----------------------------------------------

It was Christmas morning. Barry was alone in his bed. The room was warm.

Barry started crying. He couldn’t help it. The dream had felt so _real_ there, in the end! He had really expected to wake up with Len lying there in bed next to him.

But it had only been a dream. This was reality. Reality where Len was long dead and Barry was very alone.

Except, a moment later Len burst into the room, ran to Barry, and wrapped Barry in a hug. A warm hug. A tight hug. A hug that felt so real. Barry clung to him as his sobs continued to wrack his body.

Barry couldn’t stop crying. He was going crazy. But Len felt solid and real. It was warm in Barry’s room and the sun was shining in through the windows. He was awake and Len was there. Barry held him tighter.

“I’m _so_ sorry!” Len whispered; his voice torn and desperate. “I thought you would sleep longer! You went through an ordeal, and I thought you would sleep it off for _hours_ yet!

“I haven’t cooked in years. Haven’t eaten in years either, really. Haven’t been hungry in that long, either. But I was when I woke up, and I thought I could make us breakfast before you woke up.

“Now you think it was all a dream and this is going to be a harder transition for you, and I’m _sorry_!”

Len was rambling. Barry had never heard Len ramble before. It was enough to get Barry’s tears to stop and allow him to pull back and look at Len.

Len’s eyes were normal blue. They no longer held snow storms. Otherwise Len looked the same. But Barry still had a hard time accepting he was really there.

“Are you really _my_ Len?” Barry asked suspiciously.

Len flinched and drew back.

“If you mean the Len you last saw on a Christmas decades ago, before he joined the Legends and got lost at the Oculus…then _no_ ,” Len admitted.

That dumbfounded Barry. That was the last thing he’d been expecting to hear.

“If you mean the Len that has been visiting with you the past twelve nights; the Len that you shared pleasure with; the Len that you promised forev…the Len that wants to be with you forever…then _yes_ ,” Len finished.

Barry’s mind was swimming. He was exhausted. Len was right; he probably shouldn’t even be awake yet. None of this made any _sense_. Barry was getting even more frightened and insecure.

Even if this was _a_ Len, he’d just said Barry wasn’t _his_ Barry. What if he found his rightful Barry and left? Barry suddenly couldn’t imagine why this Len had chosen to stay with him.

“Why aren’t you with _your_ Barry?” Barry snapped, hurt and confused.

Len flinched like he’d been slapped across the face.

“He didn’t want me. At least, not the way I needed to be wanted for this to work.”

The pain was obvious on Len’s face. Barry felt horribly guilty. But he needed to _understand_! If he was going to give his heart to this Len, he needed to understand what was going on!

“So you… _what_? You just…kept trying this with different….different _me_ until it…” Barry stammered, uncertain how to even ask.

“Until I found a _you_ that matched this _me_ properly.” Len tried to explain, “Sometimes you didn’t take my hand the first night. Sometimes you just wanted a few nights of pleasure and then to forget it ever happened. Sometimes you wanted me to stay at the end of the nights and it didn’t feel right to me. And many variations in between.

“I’m sorry I don’t know what happened to your real Len. I don’t know if the Oculus affected him the same way, or…”

It didn’t matter, Barry realized in that instant. He’d thought…he’d thought _any_ willing him would do for this Len. _Any_ Barry. That hurt.

But this Len was saying the opposite of that. This Len, _Barry’s_ Len, was saying Barry, the Barry _he_ was, was the only one for him. It didn’t matter if they’d started on different worlds, with different versions of each other. _This_ Len had chosen _this_ Barry. And Barry was stomping on his heart for it. Barry needed to fix this, _now_ , he realized.

“ _You’re_ my real Len now,” Barry insisted. “The one I want. The one I promised _forever_ to, and meant it. I hope wherever the first Len I knew is, he’s happy. But _you_ , just _you_ , are who I want to be with now.”

Len looked skeptical. It was no wonder. Barry was screwing this up royally.

“I am tired, like you said. I’m drained. I’m hungry. My mind feels like it’s moving in molasses,” Barry admitted. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I just…you’re right; it felt like a dream to me. It’s hard for me to wrap my brain around this. I keep thinking it’s not real; it’s some kind of trick; you’re going to leave. It’s going to take me some time to accept this.

“But even when I thought it was a dream, I _knew_ I wanted you to stay with me,” Barry insisted. “ _You_ ; the you that I spent twelve amazing nights with. The you I panicked at the thought of losing.

“My first Len…there was potential there. Potential I regretted never getting to explore. Potential I got to explore, with _you_. So if…if you can give me some time to get used to it, I still want it. I still want _you_ , like I promised. _Forever_ , that promise was to _you_ and no one else. Though it seems like it’s going to take me a bit longer to get to know you than I thought, that’s all.”

“Our worlds aren’t all that different,” Len smiled with soft hope in his expression. “I was Captain Cold, a thief and scoundrel. Barry Allen was the Flash, a hero through and through. We challenged each other; we came to respect each other.

“I left with the Legends before anything more could develop; found my way to the Oculus. That Barry mourned me, but he moved on quickly and found someone else he wanted to spend his life with.  Even if I hadn’t died, I don’t know if romance would have been in the cards for us.

“The last time I saw my first Barry before the Oculus was on a Christmas, much like it happened for you and that Len. I complained about a lack of mini-marshmallows and he tried to get me to admit I might make a better hero than a criminal.

“Some worlds…there was another time we met…a heist we shared because of a certain time remnant. But that didn’t happen for me, or you.”

“You convinced me to join you on a heist?” Barry interrupted, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Other way around actually,” Len smirked. “You asked me to help you steal something, and of course I couldn’t refuse.”

Barry gaped at that, delighted at the prospect despite himself. He would have to ask for more details later, even if it was a story about a reality that neither of them had personally experienced.

“As it turns out, it helped that that didn’t happen for either of us,” Len continued. “Our last meeting being on Christmas helped with the magic that allowed me to visit during the twelve days leading up to the holiday. It’s the perfect time when the veils between similar worlds are thinner.

“Some worlds don’t even know what Christmas _is_. Celebrating Beebo Day instead just isn’t as compatible.”

“What is a Beebo?” Barry asked, squinting in confusion. “Is it like your friend Peanut Butter?”

Len laughed, and Barry sighed in relief at the sound.

“Not at all,” Len answered. “But I think that story is best saved for another day.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Barry agreed. “But you’re _staying_ , right? I didn’t push you away by saying that stupid stuff?”

“I’m here as long as you’ll have me, Barry.”

“Forever,” Barry answered.

“Forever then,” Len confirmed.

\------------------------------------------

So they both agreed to wait to talk more until Barry had had time to rest and absorb more of what had happened. But it was a comfortable silence. It was a pleasant Christmas day for them both. They cooked and ate together. They relaxed together in front of the TV. They opened the door for Christmas carolers and Barry handed out cookies from the batch he’d baked before. They briefly considered going out in the snow and having a snowball fight, but opted to stay inside and enjoy the peace.

They fell asleep together, in Barry’s pleasantly warm bedroom. Apparently the heating problem had been fixed when Len accepted Barry’s invitation to say. Len’s arms were wrapped around Barry as they had been on the first night they shared that bed.

When Barry woke up, Len was still there. He was staring down fondly at Barry. That made _all_ the difference in the world.

\---------------------------------------

‘Twas the day after Christmas and Len and Barry were having a much needed talk.

“So what happened…can you, start by explaining it the simplest way possible and we’ll work up to a more detailed, accurate explanation?” Barry asked.

Len nodded, clearly considering how best to start.

“Have you heard of an incubus before?”

“Yes, but, wait, what?! You’re an _incubus_ now?! But you were human when you…when the…the Oculus?”

“Yes, I was human then. And I’m mostly human again now, just…a bit different. The Oculus didn’t quite make me an incubus. But it’s the closest comparison I can think of.

“I needed someone to latch on to, someone to bond with, to be given more time, to come back…to be _reborn_ , we’ll say. I like that term. But to do so, I had to use some of someone else’s time…life….life force, we’ll say.

“It had to be someone that was willing to share that with me, even subconsciously, and had enough to give. You have a lot to give, with your powers. You have a lot of life. And you’ve always been very giving, you’ve always believed in me. And I’ve always been drawn to you.

“But there were rules, of course. I couldn’t come right out and ask directly. Offering you the ride on Peanut Butter was the closest I could get.

“In the end, I couldn’t _ask_ you if I could stay. You had to ask me without prompting.

“Those nights in between…I needed those nights to test us, to see if we could be compatible long term. And I, I also needed them to be able to collect the life force I needed to be reborn. That was…not without cost.

“I…in the process…those nights we shared…in that I was very much like an incubus, and I’m truly sorry.”

Barry frowned, confused, but took Len’s hand and squeezed it in reassurance.

“I…I’m sorry, but I cut your life down by around a year; a month for every night we spent together.”

“ _That’s_ all!” Barry sighed in relief. “That’s what you’re worried about? Don’t be! At the rate I age, a year off my life span is nothing! And in return, you’re human again and get to stay? I’d take that deal any day!”

“That’s not all of it. I’m not quite human. Closer to metahuman. My life energy is tied to yours. Permanently. I’ll age as you age. And as I understand your ageing rate, that means we’ve got very long lives ahead of us.”

“You mean, we can grow old together?” Barry whispered in shock and awe.

Len didn’t seem to hear him.

“We don’t…we don’t _have_ to spend those years together.” Len went on, wincing, “But we’ll both be healthier if we do. Separation sickness is a side effect of the time sharing…the life force sharing. Being more than fifty miles apart for more than a few days and we’ll start showing signs; weakness, shaking, flu-like symptoms. But under fifty miles is still a good amount of distance, if you don’t want to be…”

“Len, _stop_!” Barry cut him off. “When I said _forever_ , I meant it! And I meant _together_! In this house, or somewhere else if we decide to move. But _together_!”

Barry squeezed Len’s hands again and the words seemed to get through to him. Len took a deep breath and clearly calmed himself. He smiled with hope at Barry.

“It’s always been my _dream_ to have someone to share my life with, to grow old with!” Barry admitted. “With my slowed ageing, I thought I couldn’t have that. But now I have you, and I couldn’t be happier that it’s _you_!”

Barry hugged Len then, he couldn’t help it. Len stole a few light kisses, but he soon paused and looked at Barry. Len still seemed unsure, so Barry hurried to say more.

“I’m not saying we don’t have things to work out still. Of course we do. This was been a world-wind twelve day courtship!” Barry laughed. “But we’ve got time. And I’m looking forward to it! Building this relationship together should be fun for us both!

“Not the least of which is because we can finally have a full round of sex without it feeling like a disjointed dream to me!” Barry smiled with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.

Barry turned the conversation toward sex to hopefully get Len more comfortable with some nice distraction. And because Barry was really looking forward to sex with Len now that he knew it was real, of course.

“Just _one_ round, Barry?” Len smirked, his confidence clearly coming back. “Oh, I think we can do _much_ better than that!”

“Well, we’ll see,” Barry huffed. “I want drawn out foreplay, no rushing! I want to slowly be undressed, and to undress you. I want kisses and bites that I can watch fade as they heal. I want to be begging for it before we do it. Then I want multiple orgasms for us both. I want cuddling afterwards, and snacks! And I want you by my side in the morning afterward. _Every_ morning afterward!”

“As you wish,” Len’s smile turned soft as he said it.

“Did you just quote _the Princess Bride_ to me?!” Barry gasped in delight. “Or is that not a thing where you’re from?”

“Oh, it’s very much a thing,” Len confirmed. “And the words mean the same on both worlds, too.”

Barry saw _love_ in Len’s eyes then. Followed quickly by embarrassment, and an attempt to cover both up.

“Though, speaking of movies, I _wish_ we’d gotten Michael J. Fox in _Back to the Future_ on my Earth! You have no idea how unfunny Eric Stoltz was!” Len scoffed.

Barry laughed and let Len change the subject for the moment. Admitting love was apparently still tricky, which Barry didn’t quite understand. They’d just committed their lives to one another and Len couldn’t say three little words. But Barry could give him time. And in the mean time…

“So, multiple orgasms and multiple snacks?” Barry asked, getting up and offering his hands to Len.

Len stood with him, laughing and taking Barry’s hands with no hesitation.

“Sounds like the perfect start to a beautiful relationship.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays!


End file.
